Richard Ritacco

Sonne (Sun)

Let time harken to its master yet Bearing an open heart to a closed mind Engage that gray mass, less malice and regret Remorseful be he who leaves nothing behind. Deaden the hate which becomes a burning fuse Lest a passing wind in all its might Would be unwilling to follow a path we choose; When at dawn's birth would seem a vainful plight But love's gift may be nourished still With the quiet restraint of a peaceful soul Or love's travel with time will surely be nil